


The Last Leap

by NervousAsexual



Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam lands in the body of an elderly woman in 1955. Ziggy's pretty sure what he's meant to do here, but to Al it seems... frighteningly final.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Leap

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hi. I wrote a thing. Please don't hurt me.
> 
> * * *

He sleeps because he is dying.  
  
Al can't tell him that. god, he can barely admit it himself. He's too young in al's mind, but in this reality, in this silver of time and space, he is too old to keep moving. and, Al knows, if he doesn't move he will die here.  
  
But how long could they reasonably expect this to keep going before something went wrong? Sure, the inaccuracy of it all is great for a while, but sooner or later it's gonna backfire.  
  
So here it ends in nineteen fifty-five, in the body of an almost-centarian woman. Sad, really, but fitting for a scientist. Poor guy.  
  
Best he can figure Sam hasn't put the pieces together. He recognizes the back pain for sure, the achy muscles and cold fingers and toes, but then that's to be expected. What worries him is the silence--the moments when he says something and Sam just smiles his crooked smile and puts his head on one side, so obviously confused, blank. They come more and more frequently all the time. He can no longer blame it on distoriton.  
  
the family doesn't notice much, not even the periodic slips. Helenor Williamson never said much in her youth--little black girls in the pre-Civil War days weren't supposed to. So now the idea that she would let loose a landslide of syllables that make no sense, in this timeline anyway.  
  
Sometimes it's as if the neurology is flickering. Most of the time he's sam, lying under a battered antique quilt like he's just spending the day in bed, but sometimes he flickers and all al can see is Helenor, only Helenor, wrinkled and frizzy haired and baggy-eyed. he (or possibly she) has begun to snore. What is ziggy supposed to do with that?  
  
Back in the waiting room Helenor does talk, makes a lot of sense, actually, with theories on who she is and where she is and why these strange white men can't or won't elaborate on what is happening. Currently she has them pegged as communists exercising some kind of mind control. She doesn't remember Korea or the Rosenbergs or Annie Lee Moss, but like she never did trust Stalin. Al likes her. She's amusing to have around. He would rather have Sam, though.  
  
The days go by and Sam - or Helenor? - stays in bed, her youngest grandson turning her back and forth. A bed sore develops anyway on his - or her? - lower back.  
  
It will be fine, he tells Sam as he chokes on the mush the grandson feeds him. I'll tell you what you need to do. Right now you're just fine.  
  
In his hand the rotten pile of gummi bears beeps and blinks to tell him there's a 93% chance Sam is here to correct the destiny of Nicky, the grandson. As it runs now Nicky does fine, his scientific acumen -- says Ziggy -- gets him a good job in a chemical plant, dies at thirty-eight in an accidental meltdown but leaves behind two teenage daughters. But, Ziggy says, with a single defining event Nicky will gain the determination to push through racial boundaries and his good job with the chemical plant will become a great research and development job and discoveries that could save thousands of lives. He could change the way the world thinks about fire safety and prevention. All it takes is that one little push.  
  
Sam's in no shape to push anybody. can't walk, can't sit, can't escape, but as Nicky feeds him mush Sam's eyes wander onto Al and his face -- not Helenor's but Sam's -- his face lights up like sunshine breaking through the clouds and he smiles.  
  
Nicky smiles too and laughs and says, what is it, Grams? what do you see?  
  
The handlink beeps to remind him they have a job to do but Al puts it aside. There's always time. There's always a chance.  
  
Hi, buddy, he says, coming over to stand beside Nicky. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here.  
  
He and Nicky smile at Sam and Helenor and they smile back. He can't tell Sam. Why should he tell him? There's a 7% chance he's wrong, and that's not nothing.


End file.
